


would you spare me your voice (if i called)

by xuxisquish



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: 911 operator sicheng, Alternate Universe - Firefighters, Bad Flirting, Boys Kissing, Caretaking, Coincidences, Domestic Fluff, Drunk Texting, Fluff and Angst, How Do I Tag, M/M, Miscommunication, Nakamoto Yuta is Whipped, Phone Calls & Telephones, ten and winwin are flatmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:47:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25558342
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xuxisquish/pseuds/xuxisquish
Summary: in which firefighter yuta keeps catching the same operator when he's on phone duty, and damn, does he have a pretty voice.
Relationships: Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten/Suh Youngho | Johnny, Dong Si Cheng | WinWin/Nakamoto Yuta
Comments: 4
Kudos: 98
Collections: Foreign NCT 1





	would you spare me your voice (if i called)

The first time Yuta heard his voice, he didn’t think much of it. 

It was when the firefighter picked up a call from a 911 operator alerting him of a car crash down the freeway. Nothing unusual. They had a short-lived conversation, the operator behind the phone giving him all the details relevant to the case. Yuta alerted his team, thanked the operator, and hung up. 

The second time, a week later, it was for a child who fell unconscious.

“Seven year old male, blacked out after slipping and hitting the back of his head on the floor.”

Yuta scribbled notes on a paper and gestured for Johnny, his station captain, to come over.

“Is he breathing?”

“Yes. From what his father says, he’s probably stable, but his mom is panicking and she might need to be treated for shock.”

“Alright, thank you.” 

Yuta gave the paper with the information to Johnny, who read it quickly and, with a quick thanks to Yuta, started running to alert the EMS unit. Since he wasn’t trained for medical service, Yuta knew he was not on that case, so he just slouched back in his chair, shouting a “good luck, stay safe” to his colleagues.

With a start, Yuta realized he hadn’t hung up the phone, and the shallow sound of the operator’s breathing told him he hadn't either. He laughed nervously. “Sorry.”

He was about to press on the end call button, but the voice on the other side of the line stopped him. “Wait. Are you the same guy as last time?” he asked, and Yuta frowned, drowning out the commotion in the background caused by the firefighters getting ready.

He stayed silent for a second, trying to remember what the ‘last time’ meant, and then it came back to him and he smiled even though the operator couldn’t see him. “Yeah, that would be me. You remembered my voice?”

The guy hummed. “Yeah. I have a very good auditive memory.” He chuckled. “And you have a pretty voice.”

At those words, Yuta couldn’t stop the grin that snaked its way onto his face. “Hmm. Yours isn’t so bad either, Mister…” He left his sentence in suspension, waiting for the guy to introduce himself, maybe.

But all he got was a soft laugh. “You’ll get my name if you are lucky enough to be on phone duty when I call the next time.”

Yuta rubbed at his nose, adjusting the phone against his ear. “That’s fair. Good thing I have my share of luck, then.”

He received a hum in answer. “We will see about that.”

“Until next time,” he said, and the operator laughed.

“Hopefully,” he declared, before the line clicked, followed by a long beep.

Yuta put the phone back in its socket and bit down a smile.

-

The next three times he was on the phone shift, he barely got any calls, and of the total six times the phone  _ did  _ ring, it wasn’t who he’d hoped it was. He’d gotten his hopes up every time the shrill sound of the device rang through his ears, only to be disappointed a few seconds later, and uttering a few words while writing down the information given by the operator then hanging up.

He hated it, but every time the phone rang, he held his breath a bit, then cursed himself for being foolish. Aside from that guy, he’d very rarely spoken to the same operator more than once, if only because he was quite rarely on phone duty. It was a pure coincidence that he and the guy who called his voice pretty had spoken twice, and it wasn’t likely to happen again.

That was, until a late shift on a Wednesday night, when Yuta was almost alone at the station, swiveling around in his chair, head leaned back on the top of the backrest as he stared at the ceiling. The phone rang and the firefighter didn’t jump out of his skin this time. He calmly reached for the device, bringing it up to his ear. He’d stopped hoping for something that wouldn't happen.

“Hello?” Yuta’s eyes widened when he realized he’d said the wrong thing. How utterly unprofessional. “I mean… This is the fire station, how can I...”

“Well, hello again,” the operator cut him off, and Yuta fell silent.

“You.” 

“Yeah.” Yuta could hear the smile in the stranger’s voice. “There’s a cat stuck in a tree.”

Yuta took down the street name and slid the paper over to Jungwoo, who was drowsing off in his seat. Once he knew the mission was taken care of, he fell back in his seat, the phone wedged between his shoulder and the side of his face. 

“So. This is the third time we find each other. Fate, I tell you.”

There was a hum. “Is that what you think it is?”

Yuta chuckled.“Well, no matter what it is, you told me last time you’d give me your name.”

“Did I now?” 

The firefighter hummed in answer, fiddling with the golden chain at his neck.

“Oh, well. I’m feeling very much like taking that back, now.”

Yuta’s heart dropped a bit, but he didn’t let the guy on the other side pick up on it. “And why is that? Is my voice not pretty enough for you?”

There was a low laugh. “Oh, no, it’s not that. I just don’t want to make things easy for you. Plus, something tells me you quite like the chase.”

The firefighter didn’t bother fighting the grin that snaked its way onto his lips. “Oh. Well, I hate to say it, but you might be right.”

“Of course I’m right,” the operator chuckled. “But then I’ll make sure to make it as difficult as possible for you.”

“Oh, so you’re a keep-them-on-their-toes kind of guy?”

“I guess you could say that.”

“Hmm.” The line fell silent for a bit. “So, how’s the weather?” Yuta then asked, fully aware of the idiocy of his question.

There was a low, rumbling laugh. “Are you stalling for time?”

“Time with you?” There was a shit-eating grin on his face, even though the operator couldn’t see it. “Yes, absolutely. And you’re the one who said I had to chase, after all.”

“I didn’t say you  _ had  _ to chase, though.”

“No, you’re right. I’m running after you of my own free will.”

“Hm. I guess that’s just how interesting I am,” the man on the other side of the line said.

Yuta bit his lip as he drummed his fingers over his thigh. “Yeah, you really are.”

That seemed to have an effect on the operator, because he sputtered a bit. Yuta smirked, readjusting the phone between his ear and shoulder. “Did that make you speechless?”

“No.”

“You’re shy,” Yuta teased.

“I’m not.” 

“Oh yeah?” The firefighter pulled his lower lip between his teeth. “You sound pretty.”

He smiled wide when there was no answer. “How come you can give out compliments just fine but when you receive one, you get flustered?” he mused.

“I am not flustered.” Now that was a plain lie. Yuta could hear him blushing through the phone.

“Okay, well, shy boy, I’ve got some business to get to. Until next time.” And without waiting for an answer, he placed the phone back on its socket with the grin of a victor. 

Oh, how the turns had tabled. He wasn’t the one chasing anymore.

That night, he skipped out of the fire station, smiling like a fiend.

-

He talked to the mystery operator one more time in the week that followed, but it was a serious case, so they didn’t get to talk much. Now, however, as he stood in front of his mirror, glaring at the button-up shirt that just wouldn’t  _ look right,  _ all thoughts of the stranger on the phone had vanished from his head.

His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he groaned when he saw a text from Ten. “ _ where are u >:( _ .” Great, he was already late. Panicking a bit, he tore off the button-up, and slipped on a silk shirt, with a much too deep cleavage for the occasion. He didn’t even bother looking at himself in the mirror one last time, just grabbed his wallet and phone and rushed out of his apartment.

“ _ i’m coming _ ,” he texted Ten, and stopped a taxi with a frantic wave of his hand.

After he slipped inside and gave the driver the address, he leaned back in his seat and stared out the window, at the fleeting lights and indifferent passersby, smiling to himself. This was a night for celebrating. For letting loose. Which, if he was honest with himself, it had been a while since he’d done. 

It was the anniversary of his relationship with his ex-boyfriend, which, at first, didn’t sound like a celebration, but over the years the annual night of drinking and crying at Ten’s place had turned into a full-on party. It barely had anything to do with his ex now, and was more of an excuse he and Ten used to drink until they could barely walk. It was fun, really.

A few more minutes and the taxi stopped in front of the apartment block, the driver wishing Yuta a good evening. The firefighter basically hopped the stairs all the way to the fifth floor, and knocked forcefully on the wooden door.

“Well, well, well, who do we have here,” Ten exclaimed as he opened the door, and Yuta immediately slipped inside, giving his best friend a smacking kiss on the cheek as greeting.

“Hi, Johnny!” he called, and his fire station captain, Ten’s boyfriend, gave him a wave from his spot in the kitchen. “How are you?” he asked, all smiles, turning back to Ten.

“Oh, I’m doing amazing. Couldn’t be better,” he chirped, and Yuta could tell from the redness on his cheeks that he’d already had a few beers. “And you, baby? How’s firefighting for you?”

“Same old,” Yuta sighed as he kicked off his shoes, but started again after the pointed look Johnny gave him. “I mean. It’s great! My captain is  _ great, _ he’s the best in the city, I tell you…” 

He couldn’t continue talking, however, because he received a decorative pillow from the couch straight to the face, courtesy of Johnny. “You boot-licking piece of shit,” he teased, but there was a smile on his face.

Yuta closed one eye and threw the pillow right back. “That I might be, but I’m still your favourite from the station.”

Ten draped his arm over Yuta’s shoulder, laughing. “I’m sorry baby but he keeps telling me his favourite is a guy named Jungwoo.”

Yuta gasped dramatically, staring at his captain with fake offense in his eyes. “I can’t believe you! I’ve been working there longer than Jungwoo!”   
  


Johnny chuckled. “Would you like a beer to make up for it?” he asked, pulling out two cans from the fridge, raising an eyebrow at the firefighter.

“Don’t mind if I do,” Yuta shrugged, stalking closer to grab the drink and let himself slouch on the sofa. 

“I made food,” Ten chimed, and Yuta lifted a questioning eyebrow. 

“ _ You _ ?” 

“Oh, stop that. I’m not that bad.”

“Mmm… You kind of are,” Johnny admitted, snaking up behind his boyfriend and nuzzling his nose in his neck.

Ten shook his head. “Snakes, both of you. Just watch. I swear, it’s good.”

An hour passed like that, all three of them laying on the couch, beer in hand, eating the (surprisingly edible) food Ten had made, just talking. But that wasn’t what Yuta came there for, and what Ten had invited him for. 

So Yuta didn’t know exactly how it happened, but suddenly there was music blasting, they were dancing, and there was something much stronger than beer in his hand. The minutes passed by in a blur, getting foggier with every drink he consumed. He swayed to the music, the bass reverberating in his ears, letting his eyes fall shut.

Ten was doing the same, dancing in the middle of the living area, the glazed look in his eyes suggesting he’d taken something stronger than alcohol. Johnny was calmer, sitting down on the couch, sipping on his drink, keeping them both under a watchful eye. 

In that moment, Yuta felt absolutely ecstatic, the music pulling at his body, the sweat running down his back, the alcohol coursing through his veins. He felt alive like this. The minutes bled into hours, and he kept dancing, losing himself in the rhythm. It was only after his vision whited out when he twisted that he finally decided to sprawl himself back down on the couch a few inches away from Johnny, his head spinning.

Ten joined him a few minutes after, and Yuta let out a content sigh, staring at the ceiling and watching as it blurred in and out of focus. “I missed this,” he drawled, and Ten hummed in answer.

“Me too. It’s a shame we only do this, like, once a year.”

“It’s unprofessional,” Johnny reasoned, his face flushed because of the alcohol, and Yuta snorted.

“Oh, come on, captain.You’re completely wasted, too.”

“Am not,” he argued, crossing his arms, and Ten flipped over to crawl onto his lap, kissing his pout away. 

“You totally are,” he smiled, and his boyfriend clicked his tongue, though it was inutile.

Yuta rolled his eyes. “Gross. At least wait before I’m gone to do that shit.”

“Would you like to join in, then?” Ten asked, and Johnny’s eyes nearly burst out of their sockets.

“No, I’ll pass. You guys are  _ nasty _ .”

Johnny was about to reply, but the click of the door opening interrupted him.

“Ohhhhh,” Ten drawled. “Roomie’s here.”

“Hi, roomie,” Yuta said flatly, staying sprawled on his back and lifting up a hand to wave at the newcomer.

“... And roomie’s friend?” Ten continued, surprised.

“Hi, roomie’s friend,” Yuta repeated, this time making the effort to push himself upwards to a sitting position so he could actually see them.

The first boy was built like a tree, tall and muscled. There was a wide smile on his face when he waved at Yuta, kicking off his shoes and immediately rushing down the corridor to where the firefighter supposed his room was. He was handsome. The person behind him, though… Even in his hazy state of mind, Yuta’s breath hitched. That was the most gorgeous boy he’d ever seen, standing there, a bit awkward as he shrugged off his jacket, clearly impatient to go join his friend and escape the three inquiring gazes running over him. 

He had black, slightly swept up hair, round cheekbones, perfect lips, and absolutely  _ stunning  _ eyes. “You’re extremely hot,” Yuta let out without even thinking, and the boy’s head snapped up, his cheeks reddening. 

Yuta was too far gone to care, anyways. “Pretend I didn’t say that,” he said, slurring a bit over his words, waving a dismissive hand. “Go, join your friend.”

There was something in the beautiful boy’s face that might’ve been more than embarrassment, might’ve been something akin to shock.  _ Recognition.  _ But Yuta was absolutely wasted, so he didn’t pay attention to it, turning over on the sofa so he was facing the cushions. He listened at the fading footsteps, indicating Roomie’s Friend had made his way to Roomie.

Yuta let out a sigh. “Ten.” His friend’s head turned sideways, slowly. “I think it’s time for me to go home.”

Ten groaned. “Already? But we just started…”

“You’re falling asleep, Ten, shut up,” Yuta chuckled, pushing himself off the couch and swaying on his feet a bit.

“And you, captain?” the firefighter asked, with a brow raised towards Johnny.

He shook his head lazily, slouching back into the sofa with Ten’s head on his lap. “No, I’m staying here.”

Yuta picked up his phone, stifling a yawn. “Okay, can you do me a favour, then?”

Johnny hummed positively, his eyes half-lidded with fatigue. Yuta ripped a piece of paper from a notebook hanging around, grabbed a pen. Poking his tongue in the corner of his mouth, he started scribbling a series of numbers on it, trying hard to clear his head so he could actually see what he was writing. Once he was done, he frowned, admiring his shaky work, and deemed it acceptable, so he turned back to Johnny. “See this?” He flashed him the paper, and received a lazy nod. “Give this to the beautiful boy before he leaves. Roomie’s friend. Whatever his name is. Can you do that for me?”

His captain scoffed, but didn’t argue further, so Yuta took it for a yes, and stumbled to the door. “Okay, I’m leaving now. Bye, Ten. Bye, captain.”

Ten suddenly seemed to come out of his stupor, because he raised his head a bit to scream: “Bye baby!”

Johnny just gave him a nod. “See you.”

So, with a small smile, Yuta made his way out of the door, his hazy thoughts somehow all drifting to one specific person.

-

Sicheng really hoped he was wrong.

He’d been replaying the scene from the night before in his mind over and over again, growing more anxious each time. He analyzed it and analyzed it again, and overtime the whole memory started becoming a bit blurry, except for one thing. That boy’s voice.

It was a bit more slurred than usual, and sounded slightly different in real life, but there was no mistaking it. Sicheng had recognized the firefighter’s voice from the first word he said. He let out a groan and rolled over in his bed, nervously running his fingers through his messy black locks.

He didn’t even know his name, he thought, then winced, because, after all, that was pretty much his fault. How petty of him. He felt stupid now, when he thought about what he’d said to that boy on the phone, that hard-to-get act he’d put up, that nonsense about a  _ chase _ … 

He slapped his palms over his eyes. He was an absolute idiot.

With a sigh, he rose to a sitting position, shaking his head and pushing away all those thoughts of a smooth, attractive voice. This was not the time to overthink. He had to get to work soon, and those uncertainties plaguing his mind would do him no good. He needed to stay focused.

Soon his bare feet hit the floor as he stood up and swayed a bit from the rush of blood out of his head. He padded toward the shower, humming to himself, casting a look towards the late afternoon sky painted in warm hues of orange and pink and yellow behind the window of his apartment. 

The tiles of his bathroom floor were cold against the soles of his feet, and he promptly turned on the shower faucet to a near-scalding temperature, even though it was summer. He stepped into the shower after stripping down, sighing as the steaming droplets hit his skin and ran down his back, relaxing his tensed muscles. He reached for the bottle of shampoo and started rubbing some into his scalp, closing his eyes as the scented foam trickled down his forehead. Once he was done, he shoved his head underwater completely, until there was no other sound in his ears aside from the loud rushing of water. It was peaceful, like this, he thought. No space for overthinking. Only him and the hot water washing down his body, fogging up the glass. He wanted time to freeze like this, where he could ignore all his problems and responsibilities. But time couldn’t be stopped, and the minutes were ticking by at an astonishing speed, he realized as he wiped at the glass to see the time on the watch he’d left on the sink. 

“I’m going to be late,” he mumbled, turning off the water with a harsh twist of the wrist, and shivering as he dashed out of the shower, soaking wet, clumsily wrapping a towel around his waist. He stumbled into his bedroom and rummaged through his drawers to find anything that was remotely acceptable to wear at work. Cursing to himself, he jumped around the room on one foot, cautious not to wake up his roommate, pulling up his pants with one hand and drying his hair with the other. Five minutes later he was dashing out of his apartment, phone, keys and wallet in hand, panting harshly as he stumbled down the stairs three steps at a time. 

He made it to his workplace in fifteen minutes, though he did go a little over the speed limit in some places. Other workers greeted him as he ran down the halls, and he tried his best to wave back, even though he was in a rush. Finally, he made it to his desk, sighing heavily as he plopped down on his mobile chair. 

“You’re late again,” Taeyong, his coworker and desk neighbour, told him, eyes not leaving his computer screen. Sicheng grimaced, and Taeyong smiled. “Don’t give me one of your terrible excuses again, just make sure Kun doesn’t find out.”

Sicheng rolled his eyes as he opened his computer and placed his phone, pen and paper neatly in front of him, and pulled his coffee mug out of his bag. Tonight would be a long shift.

-

Yuta was still hungover from the mini-party at Ten’s, and Johnny gave him hell for it.

“You drank, too!” he exclaimed in outrage, and his captain shrugged.

“Yeah, I drank  _ responsibly _ , which is why I am not utterly shitfaced right now.”

Yuta gasped. “Why didn’t you stop me, then? You just wanted to scold me for it, huh? How dare you!”

With a raise of his eyebrows, Johnny pointed towards the small office upstairs, and Yuta shook his head. “No.”

“Yes. Jungwoo is sick today, and it was his turn on phone duty. You can take his spot as punishment.”

“But I did it twice this week already,” Yuta whined. “Why am I suddenly always on the phone?”

“Not my problem,” the fire captain said, completely unbothered. “Now get to it.”

Yuta made sure to roll his eyes as dramatically as he could before he made his way to the upper level, sending glares down Johnny’s way that were all peacefully ignored. “Stupid phone duty,” he mumbled to himself as he flopped down in the overused chair, then started spinning on it while waiting for the phone to ring.

He didn’t have to wait long. Soon he was replying to phone call after phone call, giving information to Johnny between them, watching as his colleagues left to do actual field work. He was itching to go, now. It had been so long since the last time he’d been sent to do a job… He sighed, his thoughts of longing for the thrill of actual firefighting interrupted by the shrill ringing of that stupid phone.

“We have a fire downtown, 3rd street, the building named Neo Restaurant.” It was him. Yuta scribbled down the info, and stopped himself from making any sort of comment, because this was serious. “It seems to be controlled at the moment, and there aren’t any people inside.”

“Is that all the info you’ve got?” he inquired.

“Yes. Have a nice evening,” the operator said, and Yuta couldn’t even say another word before the line cut with a drawn-out beep.

He frowned, puzzled. Well, that was strange. Maybe operator boy wasn’t feeling it tonight. Yuta shrugged, twisting around in his chair, already waiting for the next phone call. He just had to wait for the next time he’d call the station. Hopefully it would be soon.

-

Sicheng laid in bed, squinting at the series of numbers scribbled over a crumpled piece of paper.

He was debating ripping it to pieces, if only because of the turmoil it caused inside his gut. So many questions. Did the firefighter…  _ Yuta _ , Johnny had told him… know who he was? Had he recognized him just as Sicheng had? And if so, did Yuta still want Sicheng to text him?

The raven-haired boy let out a groan, staring at the number like his eyes could burn holes through it. He stayed like that for a good minute, debating if he should do it or not. Because he  _ did  _ want to text Yuta. That boy was  _ gorgeous _ . And it definitely didn’t help that he had an equally gorgeous voice to go along with it. 

So, deciding tonight was a night for impulsive decisions, Sicheng picked up his phone and sent him a text.

-

Three weeks passed, and, honestly, Sicheng didn’t know if he should be relieved or offended that Yuta hadn’t made the connection yet. They spoke by text nearly every day and caught each other from time to time at work. Sicheng just went along with it, hoping one day Yuta would figure everything out by himself, so that he wouldn’t have any explaining to do. That was a coward’s move, though, considering Sicheng didn’t  _ call  _ Yuta, so he couldn’t realize Sicheng’s voice was similar to the operator he flirted with nearly every week. Fine, Sicheng had to admit, he was a bit scared. Of what? That was what he had yet to find out.

He was cooking a bowl of ramen for himself in the middle of the night when his phone rang.

Keeping an eye on his noodles, he reached for his phone, and nearly dropped it when he saw the contact name. Why in the world was Yuta calling him? His heartbeat thundered in his ears as he watched the caller ID flash over his screen. What if Yuta found out he and the 911 operator were one and the same? What if he accused him of lying for all this time? 

Sicheng shook his head. He couldn’t panic now. There might be an emergency, or something, since Yuta had never called him before. His hands shook as he swiped right, taking the call.

“Johnny?” someone slurred immediately at the other side of the line.

“N-no, this is Sicheng,” he stuttered in answer.

“Oh.” A giggle. “I’m a bit drunk.”

“I can see that,” Sicheng replied, sighing through his nose. 

There was a drawn-out hum that made Sicheng’s phone vibrate against his ear. “I feel like I’ve heard your voice before, Cheng.”

The boy’s heart stopped right then and there. This was it, he was done for. “O-oh yeah? Where?”

“Cute operator guy?” Yuta asked tentatively after a long pause, probably to gather his thoughts. “Is that you?”

Sicheng hesitated for a second, before uttering an unconvincing “No…”

“Oh.” He could hear the pout in Yuta’s voice. “Why does your voice sound so much like cute operator guy? I miss him. We haven’t spoken in a week and I miss himmmmmm,” he whined.

Sicheng had to hold back a chuckle. “Oh. How much did you drink, Yuta?”

“I’m not drunk,” he sputtered in indignated tone, even though he’d said the exact opposite a few minutes prior.

“Uh huh.” The operator chewed on his bottom lip. “Do you want me to come pick you up?”

The response was instant, and it made Sicheng’s stomach flip, for some reason. “Please.”

“Okay. Send me your location, I’ll be right there.”

Soon he was hopping in his car, fiddling with the contact until the motor revved to life, and then he was off, driving through the fresh night air. He shot a look to his phone screen from time to time, making sure he was going in the right direction, but he was pretty familiar with that part of town, so he found the indicated spot quickly enough. It was a bar, not the most famous in the city but quite popular, for a small establishment. Sicheng was about to head in, his rushed steps hitting the pavement with dull thuds, but suddenly he spotted a hunched figure, huddled up on a bench besides the main entrance, and, for some reason, he knew it was Yuta.

And right then, his anxiety got the better of him, and he froze instead of walking up to him. What if the firefighter had figured him out? He’d recognized his voice, after all. What if he got mad at Sicheng for withholding the information, and-- 

Yuta let out a whine as he literally toppled right over the armrest, sprawling down on the sidewalk, and Sicheng was next to him in an instant. Clearly, he was  _ much  _ too wasted to do any coherent thinking at the moment.

“Are you okay?” he asked, crouching in front of the other boy, and Yuta lifted up his head to squint at him.

“Sicheng.”

“Yeah, that’s me.”

“You’re so pretty.”

Sicheng let out a sigh, and slid his hands under Yuta’s arms to pick him off the ground. “Put your arm around my shoulder,” he said once he’d managed to make the other boy stand. “Yeah, like that. My car is just down the curb. Do you remember how you came here?”

“I can walk,” Yuta muttered, yet he clearly had no intention to move away from the physical support Sicheng was offering. “And, uh… I came here by bus. I think.”

“By  _ bus _ ? Now why in the world would you come here alone with no lift?”

“Well.” Yuta paused, like he was doing some very complex thinking. “I was going to call Johnny.”

Sicheng gave him a sidewards glance. “Yeah, I guessed as much.”

“Wait, no, I want Johnny,” Yuta blurted suddenly. “Can you call him?”

“I’m pretty sure Johnny is either asleep or working. I don’t want to bother him, and you neither.” He shrugged a bit to make Yuta look forwards. “This is my car. Do you think I can drive you back to your apartment without you throwing your guts up?”

“Hmm,” Yuta let out as Sicheng opened the passenger side door for him and pushed him in. “No, definitely not. It’s too far away from here.”

Sicheng blinked up at him, exasperated, as he reached over the other boy’s lap to clip in his seatbelt. 

“My place is closer, I’m pretty sure. About ten minutes. Can you survive that?”

Yuta nodded, eyebrows furrowed, like this was an important task he’d just been assigned to. “Yes.”

“Alright then,” Sicheng sighed as he slipped behind the wheel. “Here we go.”

The streets were nearly empty at this hour, so they made it to the apartment Sicheng shared with Ten in the record time of seven minutes. 

“I didn’t puke,” Yuta said proudly as Sicheng pulled him out of the vehicle, rummaging through his pockets to find his keys. 

“Good job,” he mumbled, distracted, and suddenly there was a pair of lips pressing a wet kiss to his cheek. 

“Thank you for driving me,” the other boy said, and Sicheng whipped his head sideways to see a bright smile blooming on Yuta’s face. His cheeks heated up.

“Oh, uh. No problem. Watch your step.”

They staggered up the steps to Sicheng’s apartment, the poor boy grunting as Yuta braced his entire weight on him to climb. The operator pushed open his apartment door after unlocking it, and was met with Ten’s questioning eyes, that widened when they took in Yuta. There were so many questions on his roommate’s face, and Sicheng sighed as the black-haired boy shifted his position on the sofa, clutching at a pink mug.

“I’ll explain later,” he mouthed, and Ten gave him a look that meant  _ you better  _ as he dragged a stumbling Yuta all the way to his bedroom. 

“I’m tired,” Yuta muttered, his alcohol-smelling breath hot on Sicheng’s ear.

“Okay,” Sicheng grunted as he hauled the other boy through the door frame. “But you can’t fall asleep yet.”

“Why?” he whined in answer as Sicheng sat him down on the bed.

“You have to shower. I’m not letting you fall asleep in my bed like this, man, you  _ stink _ . And before that, I have to go explain to my roommate why the hell you are in our apartment, so… behave. I’ll be right back.”

With a scrunch of his nose that had no business being as adorable as it was, Yuta let himself fall backwards, sprawling out on the mattress, and Sicheng headed out of the bedroom with a fond smile.

“Wait,” he heard Yuta say from behind him and he whirled around to look at the firefighter.

“What?”

“I don’t want you to leave,” Yuta pouted, and Sicheng’s heart did a whole backflip in his chest. But he just gave the other boy a reassuring smile.

“I said I won’t be long,” he assured, and left the door open behind him as he walked out.

“So,” Ten asked once he’d stepped inside the living room, “what’s going on?”

Sicheng braced his palms on the counter. “He was drunk and he called me. I’m just helping out a friend.”

Ten gave him a look that made him suspect that his roommate knew more than he let on. “Oh, is that so? I forgot you two spoke a lot.”

“ _ Texted _ ,” Sicheng corrected mechanically. “We texted a lot.”

“Really?” His roommate’s eyes were glinting with a spark of mischief.

The younger boy backed off a little, feeling the tip of his ears starting to redden. “Yeah,” he huffed, looking away. “What else?”

“Well… you know my boyfriend works at the fire station,” Ten drawled, tracing the edge of his mug with the tip of his pointer finger. “I’ve obviously heard about your adventures on phone duty.”

At that, Sicheng let out a cough, a bubble of panic rising up in his chest. “My what?”

Ten looked at him sideways. “The firefighter you keep flirting with.”

“The  _ what _ ?”

He received an eye roll from his roommate. “You heard me.”

“Yeah but,” he stuttered, “how did you know it was me?”

“Look. Johnny keeps telling me about a 911 operator Yuta flirts with all the time. You are a 911 operator, and you talked to me once about a firefighter with a nice voice. I have a brain, you know. I connected the dots.”

Sicheng exhaled sharply through his nose. “Wow.”

“Yes, thank you very much. Now the thing is, does Yuta know you and the 911 operator he’s been fooling around with are the same person?” Ten inquired with an eyebrow raise. “Because, obviously, you’ve made the connection. I’m not so sure about him, though. He can be pretty dense, sometimes.”

“Well.” Sicheng paused. “I was going to tell him. Soon. Maybe.”

Ten let out a groan. “Oh my gosh, you totally were not.”

His cheeks on fire once more, Sicheng gave his roommate a distraught look. “No! I mean, yes! Look, he’s intimidating.”

An unimpressed eyebrow raise. “Intimidating?  _ Yuta _ ?”

Sicheng brought up a hand to scratch behind his neck. “Yeah…”

“He’s literally the sweetest person alive,” Ten deadpanned.

“But what if he gets mad because I didn’t tell him before?”

Pinching at the bridge of his nose, Ten let out a sigh. “Sicheng. You  _ have  _ to stop overthinking like this. Just tell him. You know it’s the right thing to do, don’t you?” A shy nod. “Then just go for it! Yuta is not the type to hold grudges like that.”

Sicheng chewed on his bottom lip, shook his head forcefully. “Okay. Okay, I’ll tell him.” Then all the newfound resolve melted away from his face when he remembered in what state he’d left the firefighter. “Maybe not tonight, though.”

“Yeah, okay, whatever, just make sure you do it. You’re dismissed. Now go take care of your boy,” Ten told him, ushering him away. 

Blushing hard at his roommate’s wording, Sicheng obeyed, dashing towards his bedroom, in which he found Yuta in the same exact position he’d left him, arms spread out, legs dangling off the bed. Once he stepped closer, though, he heard the light snoring, and sighed. He’d have to wake him up, which wasn’t something he was too glad to do.

Nevertheless, he leaned down, slipping his hands around Yuta’s shoulders to shake him awake. It took a few tries, but suddenly the other boy’s eyes flew open. “Why did you wake me up?” he whined.

Sicheng pulled him off the bed, walking him to the bathroom. “I told you not to fall asleep. You smell terrible. Are you able to stand?”

“Yeah,” Yuta mumbled in answer. “I can take a shower by myself, don’t worry.”

“I doubt it, but I trust you,” Sicheng said as they passed through the doorframe of the bathroom. “Shampoo, conditioner, soap,” he listed, pointing at the colourful bottles on a shelf inside the shower. “Twist this knob right to turn the water on. The temperature should be fine, but it might take a while to adjust.” He paused, hesitated. “Are you sure you can take a shower without slipping or hurting yourself?”

“Yeah,” Yuta assured, his face morphed into an obstinate frown, and Sicheng sighed.

“Okay. You can use this towel. Don’t take too long.”

And with that, Sicheng strode out of the bathroom, not without catching a glimpse in the mirror of Yuta pulling his shirt over his head.

When he heard the water running, he started rummaging through his closet for clothes to give Yuta, settling with plain underwear, worn-out sweatpants and an oversized white t-shirt. Then he let himself fall on his bed, back hitting the mattress with a thud, shutting his eyes, listening for any sound that indicated Yuta had injured himself. But there was nothing, only the soft background noise of the shower, and after a few minutes it stopped abruptly. 

“Uh, Sicheng?” he heard Yuta call, his voice muffled by the door between them. “Do you have clothes I can borrow?”

Sicheng hummed positively in answer, pushed the door slightly ajar to slip the underwear, shirt and pants to the boy in the bathroom. A few seconds later, Yuta was walking out, and Sicheng felt like he was being punched to the stomach. Hard. 

Yuta’s hair was wet, glistening under the overhead lamp, and, well… he was wearing Sicheng’s clothes. The younger cursed himself internally for being so affected by it. He just looked so… warm. And huggable. And-- Sicheng nearly slapped himself. This wasn’t the time for daydreaming. He had to get Yuta to bed. The poor boy was nearly swaying on his feet, his eyes fluttering closed.

“Come here,” he told Yuta in a gentle voice, reaching out to help him steady himself. He watched as the other boy slipped under the covers of his bed, looking much too beautiful for someone who was absolutely wasted.

“This is your bed,” Yuta mumbled, muffling his voice with the soft cover he’d pressed over the bottom of his face. 

“Yeah, it is.”

“Where are you going to sleep?” he asked, and Sicheng could see the visible effort it took for him to keep his eyes open.

“The couch, maybe.”

Yuta didn’t say another word, and the other boy thought he’d fallen asleep, but suddenly a hand was grabbing at Sicheng’s forearm, pulling him down.

“No,” Yuta muttered. “No couch. Stay here.”

Sicheng kept his face blank, forced out an exasperated sigh even though his heart was racing at the words. “Well, if you insist. I have to get changed, though.”

Yuta let him go with a victorious grin, and Sicheng’s cheeks were dusted in pink once again at the sheer beauty of that smile. He rushed to get into loose pants and a stretched-out black t-shirt, then made his way back to the bed, hoping that Yuta had fallen asleep in the meantime. But no, the firefighter was looking at him with fatigue-clouded eyes, and when he took his arms out from under the cover to make grabby hands towards the younger, Sicheng nearly melted right there.

“I’m cold,” he muttered, and Sicheng let out a chuckle.

“You have like three blankets.”

Yuta groaned into the pillow. “I’m trying to cuddle, you idiot,” he slurred, and the older boy’s cheeks reddened against his accord.

“Uh, yeah, Okay. Sure. Yeah, I’m here,” he stuttered, making for the bed, and soon he was slipping under the covers, blushing hard at the proximity between him and Yuta. The other boy didn’t seem affected at all, though, and Sicheng’s breath halted when Yuta grabbed his hand, tugging him closer.

“Fine, okay,” he huffed, and scooted towards Yuta until his back was against his chest and his arm was slung around his waist. “Like this?” he asked, his voice nothing but a whisper.

Yuta hummed contently and snuggled even closer until Sicheng could bury his nose in his hair, still wet from the shower. Yuta had used his shampoo, and the fact that the firefighter smelled like  _ him  _ made Sicheng have to bite down a flustered smile.

And like this, his arm wrapped snugly around the other boy, soothing warmth radiating from his body, Sicheng’s breathing slowed, and it wasn’t long before he fell asleep, his heart full.

-

When Sicheng woke up the next morning, there was no trace of the warmth from the night prior.

He lazily reached forwards, patting the mattress to find someone that wasn’t there. 

He pushed himself upwards to a sitting position, scanning the semi-darkness of the room with sleep-addled eyes, a sinking feeling in his heart. Yuta was gone.

He sighed, trying not to overthink, trying to ignore the knot the idea that Yuta had left created in his gut. Stumbling a bit, he made for the door, and as soon as he opened it, a strong aroma of food being cooked flowed to his nose. He frowned. Ten never made breakfast. Was there a special occasion or something he didn’t know about?

He strode towards the kitchen, and his confused expression deepened when he heard the muffled sound of a conversation. Why did Ten have someone over so early in the morning?

Then it clicked.

He stopped just behind the door to the kitchen, placing a hand on his heart, letting out a relieved sigh when he realized he knew the voice that was speaking with his roommate. Yuta hadn’t left. He was still here, with him.

Sicheng pushed the panel open with a lively “Good morning,” that died down halfway through, and his mouth fell open.

He’d guessed Yuta was the one in the kitchen with Ten, but he hadn’t been prepared for the scene in front of him. Yuta, hair tousled and messy from sleeping, wearing Sicheng’s clothes, cooking breakfast. The scene was just so  _ domestic  _ it made his stomach fill with butterflies.

“Good morning!” Yuta said back, smiling at him, and Ten, who was sitting at the counter, hummed.

“Hi, Sicheng.”

It took the younger a good thirty seconds to formulate a proper sentence. “Uh… Yuta? Why are you, um…” With a gesture of his hand, he indicated the food the other boy was making.

Yuta’s eyebrows shot up for a second, but then he understood. “Oh! I’m making breakfast to thank you for yesterday. How do you like your eggs?”

“Scrambled.”

“Got it.”

The room fell silent for a moment, aside from the sound of eggs cooking, until Ten wiggled out of his chair, and coughed unnecessarily loudly. “I’ll be making my way out for a bit, hm?”

As soon as the door shut behind his back, Sicheng pivoted towards Yuta. “Um…” He fiddled with a pen that was laying on the counter. “We need to talk.”

Yuta nodded without turning away from his eggs. “Yeah, probably.”

“Hmm. Okay, first of all…” Sicheng hesitated. “Why do you trust me?” There was a pause, then he scrambled to explain himself. “I mean, why was I the person you called yesterday? To help you? I’m not ungrateful for your trust, or anything, just… surprised.” He finished his sentence by chewing on his bottom lip, nervously twisting the pen in his hand.

“Oh, um. I mean, it’s not very clear because I was  _ hammered _ …” A chuckle. “But I think you weren’t the person that I originally wanted to call. A misdial, if you will.”

Sicheng gave him an over-the-top wince. “Ouch, my feelings.”

“They’ll be fine. I don’t regret calling you, though.” With a deep breath, Yuta turned back to his eggs, pushed them around a bit in the pan. “Look.We’ve never talked to each other in person before, but I feel like I’ve known you for a long time. This might be weird to say, but, after all those conversations… I do trust you.”

At that, Sicheng’s heart skipped a bit. “You know?” he blurted, and realized his mistake immediately when the other man faced him with his eyebrows shot up into his hairline.

“Know about what?”

“The, um-” The pen clicked as Sicheng fiddled furiously with it, his cheeks heating up. “The- never mind.”

Yuta frowned. “Tell me.”

Sicheng shut his eyes forcefully, then gave Yuta an apologetic look. He had no other choice, then. “Fine. Okay, don’t freak out, but… We do know each other.” Yuta’s eyes widened, but he didn’t interrupt. “Well, in a way. Um, I realized a month ago that the guy partying with my roommate was actually the firefighter I keep flirting with on the phone.” And with that, he added an awkward smile, disregarding the way his face was absolutely burning in embarrassment. 

Yuta took a second to process what Sicheng had said, then his face lit up in understanding. “ _ Oh _ ! So you  _ are  _ cute operator guy! I knew your voice was familiar!”

Sicheng’s face shifted into a confused frown. “Wait, what? You’re not mad?” he asked, relief flooding through every pore in his body.

“No, why would I be? I mean, I would’ve appreciated being told a bit earlier, but I understand why you would've been a little awkward on how to come about it, so… It’s no big deal.”

With a drawn-out sigh and a smile blooming on his face, Sicheng shook his head. “I can’t believe you didn’t recognize me. I knew it was you from the first sentence you said.”

Yuta’s eyebrow shot up. “Really? And what was it?”

“Do you really want me to remind you?” In Sicheng’s mind, a flash of a wasted Yuta saying " _ You’re extremely hot _ ." Clearly, Yuta himself suddenly remembered it too because his cheeks reddened and he backed down.

“Yeah, you know what? Never mind.” Then his eyes went up to meet Sicheng’s. “It still stands, though.”

Rolling his eyes, Sicheng reached over the counter to grab him, pulled him close and kissed him.

It was soft and sweet and suddenly it felt like they had all the time in the world. After a few seconds, they pulled away, out of breath, staring deeply into each other’s eyes. Yuta let his hand fall atop Sicheng’s, and they interlaced their fingers, both of them smiling like idiots. But it didn’t matter, because, at long last, the chase was over, and the result was oh so rewarding.

When Yuta leaned in to kiss him again, a switch clicked in Sicheng’s mind. “Yuta,” he mumbled against his lips, and only received a hum in answer, then another kiss. “Yuta, your eggs are burning.”

“Mhm,” was the noncommittal response, then Yuta’s eyes flew open. “Shit.”

Sicheng chuckled to himself as the firefighter rushed over to turn off the stove and glare at the burned eggs as he shoved them inside the trash. Once he was done and the fire hazard was thankfully averted, Yuta made his way back to Sicheng, eyebrows furrowed.

“What are you laughing at?” he grumbled, but Sicheng was already walking around the counter to place his hands on Yuta’s hips.

“You’re amazing.”

“Because I burnt eggs?”

“Yes,” Sicheng said in the most serious voice possible, and that earned him a slap on the shoulder, then a peck on the lips.

“I think we’re pretty lucky, huh?” Yuta then said, referring to the way they found each other.

Sicheng scoffed softly. “Not luck. A bunch of coincidences.”

Yuta pouted at him. “Say what you want, pretty boy, I’m telling you it’s fate.”

At that, Sicheng’s stomach came alive with the wings of a thousand butterflies. “Okay, sure, call it whatever you’d like, as long as you give me another kiss,” he told him with a wink.

“Okay,” Yuta replied with a grin, “I can work on that.”


End file.
